The Lost Isle
by CactusPalooza
Summary: A decade after they return to Spain, the crew sets sail once again. With the direction of Asia in mind, they stumble upon a sandy white beach and something more mind-boggling than a city of gold.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is set after my first one, Three Deities, so I suggest that be read first.**

It had been so long since they had felt the fresh air of the sea against their skin, the wind in their hair and the sun on their faces. The adventure would only have been sweeter if it was five instead of four.

Tulio stood behind the helm, piloting the ship with Miguel interpreting the compass lazily from beside him. Mecatl, who had widened her vocabulary quite a bit, took watch in the crow's nest Altivo was napping below. Her thick black hair was cut down to her shoulders, as she couldn't stand braiding it anymore. Tulio and Miguel hadn't changed much themselves, keeping their so-called 'stupid haircuts' ten years down the road. They were as thick as thieves, which they technically were.

Soon after returning to Spain, Mecatl sold her earrings to the best offer, a breezy twelve-hundred thousand pesetas. They bought a small house with a barn for Altivo and put the rest up, using it now to stock up for the trip. Her only reminder of where she grew up was the golden necklace with a scarlet emerald gem embedded in the middle.

"I'm not seeing anything,"calls Mecatl, sliding down the later on built into the mast. "Well, nothing but a storm." To punctuate her words, a strong wind flows through her dress, loose pieces of Tulio's hair moving with it.

"How bad?"

"Not very." With a nod, Tulio grips the helm a little tighter.

"I'm not doubting the almighty god of wisdom," says Miguel as he stands, "but don't they say to go below deck during storms?"

"That sounds like doubt, Miguel."

"No, no, I'm just saying what they say."

"Saying what they say? It doesn't matter what you say they say, the final say around here is what I say, because I'm the captain and what I say is said."

"You're both confusing me. You two can go below deck, I'll handle her, okay?" Miguel and Tulio looked at each other, took a moment to consider it, and nodded their agreement.

"You two start fighting again?" Chel teases, feet kicked up as she lays in bed. Despite just having had their third child, she insisted that she come along. Tulio greets her with a brief kiss and sits next to her, kicking off his shoes. Standing day in and day out was tiring, but there was no one that Tulio trusted with the helm besides Mecatl, who was the designated lookout.

"There's a storm, and Meca agreed we should wait it out below deck."

"She didn't agree, she offered to take over."

"But she did agree, because we're below and she's above, and Altivo will be down here as soon as the thunder starts."

"She did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"You sound like Rosita and Izhi," groans the mother. "Settle down, kids."

Early the next morning, the group below deck was awoken by a knock on the door. It shook in it's frame, but that was partly from the growing age and lack of proper care. Tulio's head popped up first, conditioned to rouse from sleep at the slightest sound. His arm was wrapped around Chel's ankle, the woman having had fallen off of the bed and onto Altivo, who was snuggling up against Miguel. It was odd for Tulio, sleeping and waking with the rest of the crew, but it was a welcome sight. Chel was next, waking Miguel and Altivo with her.

"As much as I'd love to be captain and crew, I'm designated lookout unless anyone else can take the spot. It's too foggy to go any longer without one."

Miguel ended up with the compass again, Mecatl and Tulio swapping spots. He would be lying if he said he hadn't been dozing up there, but he couldn't understand how Mecatl never complained. It was a different temperature from on the deck, colder or hotter by a noticeable few degrees, every shift in the waves that rocked the boat making his insides tumble, not to mention the bathroom bucket.

"Tulio!" Called Mecatl from right in front of his face, causing him to scream and almost jump straight out of the crow's nest.

"I wasn't sleeping!"

"I don't care what you were doing, but you're going to want to take a look at this."


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter is really short because of multiple reasons:**

 **It's filler for a longer chapter next time**

 **I haven't updating in actual forever so I wanted to get something out there**

 **And everything can be summed up in a Twenty One Pilots lyric:**

 **I don't have writer's block, my writer just hates the clock**

Tulio couldn't believe his eyes. Where there had been deep blue water there was now white sand, driftwood and murky bottles littering the shore in the same shade of white.

"Could this be another El Dorado?" Miguel wonders aloud, feet shifting the sand loudly as he moved. The wood felt papery beneath his fingertips, flaking away to reveal a darker, inky black interior.

"Let's hope not," Tulio grumbled, glancing over at Chel, who was watching Mecatl observe the map. They were far from friends, but they weren't enemies anymore. After El Dorado, he couldn't stand losing anybody else, and neither could Miguel. Tulio observed the same phenomenon with the bottle, white chipping away with a few swipes of his nail. Furrowing his brow, he tossed it back onto the ground. The sky was spotless, not a cloud in sight although the sun had been blocked only minutes before. Mecatl showed him the compass from her spot further down the beach, the needle spinning visibly.

"We aren't on the map, there's nothing but ocean until we reach Asia."

"We should go into the forest and see the wildlife," the Doradan suggested, tucking the compass back into her pants. Miguel tried to stop her, only to receive her best death glare.

"If you don't remember, no compass. You know, the thing we use to guide us because Miguel and Tulio don't know left from up and right from down?"

"And, in case you don't remember, we are from El Dorado. We were born and raised to guide, and guide we will."

Somehow, they all ended up in an ivory forest. The ground was dirt, like the dirt they were used to, but sprinkled with ash and white grain like the sand on the beach. Sometimes it squeaked and stuck to their shoes, other times it was like creaking concrete, but it all kept the same dry appearance. Two toed footprints in pairs of three tracked left and disappeared after two miles, balls of fur rolled between the group's legs, and bird-like monkey screeches echoed throughout the denser areas around them. Thick lime green leaves allowed the sun through in odd patterns of decagons and triangles, some even looking like eyes staring at them from above- well, below, because the light was on the dirt around them, but the point was made. From the east, a tree cracked.

"We should turn around."

"Or we could keep going. The day is not yet over, and we have much more to explore." Another tree cracked.

"We can't explore if we're dead!" The ground began to shake underneath them, loud footsteps quickly approaching. A hand, nonhuman with an arm covered in milky white fur the size of a torso, slapped the ground only inches away from the four of them. Following the resounding thump was a roar that shook them to the bone, two ape creatures the size of houses broke through the brush easily. As if rehearsed, four voices screamed in terror at once and their bodies stood frozen by the same emotion. Then they ran, Miguel and Tulio in the lead and the two Doradans following close behind. The steady thumping and sniffling and growling behind them encouraged them to keep moving, even if it was possibly in the wrong direction. Twigs snapped, leaves crunched, and low hanging branches caught in their hair, on their skin, but the threat was still close. They couldn't run anymore, they stared at a cliff and it stared back. Then, at the best possible moment, chains rattled and the roars cut short. Tulio didn't want to turn around, neither did Miguel, but the two Doradan women turned as though they weren't staring death in the face.

"Tulio, honey, you might want to look at this." Slowly but surely, the pony-tailed man and his accomplice shifted to see the monsters that had chased him. They were indeed apes, indeed built like houses, but a single woman with gold chains had managed to tame them. Silver hair stuck out from beneath a hood of gold in twin braids, a smirk painted on blue lips. In each of her hands was the end to a chain, muscles flexed without a single hint of strain. She spoke, but it was a series of clicks instead of an understandable language.

"Uh...Thanks?" Her head cocked to the side, seeming to understand the word. Or maybe she didn't, Miguel didn't know how she functioned.

"Come with me," the woman demanded, but it came out as a heavily accented 'co me.' It was repeated once she said it again, and the fire in her inky black eyes once the hood was removed and the snarling apes was enough to get their feet moving. In that moment, though, the blonde did not feel threatened as much as he did comforted, and perhaps maybe something in his stomach twitched upon meeting her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**I got an email that there was a new review for this, which was the first time I'd thought about this story since posting chapter two. So surprise, I guess, I'm bringing this back from the dead in 2018. This is a very, very short chapter, but I'm currently in the exact middle of finals week, so I have a hell of a lot of other work. If all goes well there will be a next chapter, and that chapter will be much longer.**

The quartet had no choice in the matter but to follow the strange woman and her apes. It was certain death if they jumped from the cliff, and it was likely they would die if they refused. Mecatl took the lead, eyes scanning over the vibrant yet seemingly overexposed forest they were in.

"So, what is this place?" Miguel asked, not expected an answer but still feeling disappointed at the silence in response. "You aren't on the map, is this island new?"

"Islands don't form overnight, blondie," Chel scoffed, rolling her eyes. It was outwardly rude, but the fond smirk on her lips painted her narrative well enough. As a mother of three and the wife of Tulio, she was more than used to teasing. From their left, a vibrant orange bird squawked, though it sounded more like the bark of a dog.

"This isn't real," Miguel whispered to Tulio, who had a look of agreement written all over his face.

"Our oranges went bad, we're hallucinating. In what world do birds bark? What's that?" The leader pointed to another ball of fluff weaving through the trees beside him, which stopped upon seeing them. It uncurled it's body, revealing six hairless, multi-jointed legs, which it scuttered away on.

"This isn't real," Miguel echoed.

"This is as real as we're getting," Mecatl whispered back, joining them farther back. "I don't trust that lady. She looks human, but her eyes are black. I'm out."

"That's the strangest thing to you?" Chel asked. "Not the giant gorillas, the barking birds, the balls of fur, not the milk-white trees?"

"All of that is nature. Her eyes are not."

There was no concept of time on the island, it seemed. The sun hadn't moved, but it seemed they were walking for hours. Finally, though, the broke through the trees, and a wonderful landscape greeted them.

In the center of the plaza was a temple built from stunningly white marbel, laced with what appeared to be shining gold instead of black. It was Roman in style, with beautifully carved pillars supporting a triangular roof. Outside of it was a throne built of what looked like linen, though it didn't sway in the wind. The temple and throne overlooked a rectangular pool with water so blue yet so clear to see through it was like an optical illusion. Pure black petals floated on top of the water, being picked out and set in baskets by pale women with four skillful, webbed fingers and eyes as wide and black as the petals they were picking.

"Unreal," Chel gasped in awe, just as unable to take everything in as her counterparts. The woman and the apes stopped at the edge of the pool, the women, or at least the group assumed women, setting their baskets down in favor of bowing. She clicked her tongue a few times, sliding off of her ape. Effortlessly, she whipped off her cloak in one movement and handed it to the nearest woman, who folded it neatly and set it beside her basket.

Now, her silver braids swung loosely around her thighs, obviously having not been cut for a long time. Her skin was tanned and freckled by the sun, though it seemed to hold a grey tint to it. The light blue of her lips was not paint but a tint, one not unlike that of a dead body. She stood in front of them baring proudly the muscles wrapping her frame and the scars marring her skin, and it became obvious she was the leader for more reasons than her thumbs.

"I'm Tulio," he introduced, stepping forward and holding out his hand. It was apparent his group thought he was crazy, and, behind his macho mask, he believed so, too. "What do we call you?"

The woman stepped forward, looking Tulio over. She was shorter than him, and, despite the wrinkles the sun brought to her face, he believed she was younger, too, but there was that same burning from earlier in her pitch black eyes that made him feel like none of that mattered. He was the captain of their expedition, but she was in control now. She shook his hand firmly, her grip leaving a print where the blood had yet to return to his hand.

"Cepeshu, Ruler of the Lost Isle."


End file.
